Fool's Gold
by justanotherspotlighttragedyx
Summary: Cameron has a hard life in front of her, Not just because she wants a Gold Olympic Medal, But because she's competing for that title... in an all boys boarding school.


At the Harrington Boarding Academy for boys, you would think nothing would go wrong. There would never be trouble makers; no one would ever try to ruin the other. It was just a good, athletic, smart school for extraordinary boys.

The school specialized in your needs and talents. If you loved music; they had 5 different music classes you could take. If you wanted to go into sports, like myself, they had a giant gym, a work out center, fields, and pools, anything you would need.

The school was for the most special guys. They were handpicked. You have to have all As, do extra things when not needed, and be just perfect. To get in was almost impossible.

But it sounds nice, right? A school of talented 15 to 19 year olds boys sounds like a great education, right? Where they could all do great things, and even slack off during the weekends... Have some fun? Yeah... But that's not how it works out, not at all. At least, not this year. Instead it goes along the lines of this

One girl.

300 guys.

And a whole lot of testosterone.

The school was supposed to run, nicely. All the guys would become friends, go to their classes, work out, and just lead perfect lives. No drama, no girls, no drugs, no sex, no drinking. But who we were kidding? Even without girls there would be drugs and drinking. But, at least, the school could control the whole sex thing. No girls, they had said. No girls, they would groom and teach all these young men to become proper adults, right? Wrong.

Cameron Hamilton. That was her name. That was the one girl, they would let go to the school. And for what reason, you ask? She was an experiment. And also, she deserved to be at the school, she even had achieved a scholarship.

She was the girl that stood out on the outside. She watched all her friends, live their lives, as she worked. She grew up too fast. Instead of hanging with friends and going to parties, she played sports and concentrated on education. Her mind was set on the Olympics and nationals.

She was so different. And she needed to be different. That's all she wanted. Difference, from others. And that's why she got into the school. That's why she was going to the Olympics. That's why she wouldn't let herself fall in love. She would never herself fall in love.

She wouldn't be romantically linked; she didn't need anything like that.

She had herself.

And she thought that was enough.

Too bad she was wrong.

The floor was old, wood, and polished. She could see her reflection in it, almost. The walls were a tint of yellow, the lining on the bottom of the wall was wood also. She liked it. She liked all of it. The school had a theme of an old boarding school. She felt like she had come from the 1950s and she liked it.

Finally, after running in circles, she made her way to her room. The door was tall and thin. The door knob was silver and cold as she placed her hand around it, her breath caught. This was her room, where she would spend the next 4 years.

She gazed up, there was a white board. A smile spread across her lips as she grabbed the marker. Her hand neatly wrote Cameron, under the list of guy names. Somehow she felt accomplished, it actually set into her that she had made it. She was the first girl in the all guys academy. Her name seemed to fit in with the guys, Mac, Derrick, and Keegan.

Keegan she read again. The name struck a chord with her. She winced and looke down. No, it wouldn't be her Keegan, would it? He was one of the reasons she wanted to go here, he would be here. And while never wanting to see him again, she craved his attention. She sighed, and erased the thoughts from her mind.

Would they know? That they were the three boys who would room with the only girl at their school? They would have to deal with her. She was a girl, different from them. But, yet, the same. She was an odd creature, preferring dirt over make-up.

As she let her arm fall to her side, she winced. Her shirt; it was one of those stupid limiting, button ups. She hated it, but her mother had forced her into wearing it. She sighed and started to unbutton her shirt, wanting nothing more than the comfort of a stretchy tank top.

She opened the doors with her new keys, and continued to take her shirt off. The room was dark and musty. And that was why Cameron didn't notice the guy lying on her bed, only in boxers.

And that was how MacAllister Sheller got an eye full on Cameron Hamilton's chest.

The lights were tinted, barely on, and she didn't notice Mac on his bed. Instead, she sighed and left her bags near the, now, closed door on the floor. Carefully, she took off the white blouse and sighed. She stretched her arms, thankful to have the fabric off of her, and threw the white blouse into an open drawer.

Mac smiled at the mystery girl in his dorm. Her back was facing him, and he couldn't help but notice her almost bare back. His fingers tingled, wanting to snap off the back of her black bra.

This was an all boy's academy, he thought, why was she here? But, then again, he couldn't complain. This girl was like a goddess. Her skin was tan, and smooth. Her black hair fell down her back in long, curly black waves.

And then she turned around, noticed Mac in his boxers, and glared.

Mac's breath shortened as he watched her. She was beautiful. Her golden brown eyes were mesmerizing. There was just something. So gorgeous about her, and there was something wrong about her, too. She had a determined expression, like she always was dealing with something important. He would find out soon that she always had that look, of misery yet determination, like she was up against the whole world.

"Just stay on your side of the room, and I'll stay on mine," she said, while stretching her arms over head. Cameron yawned, silently, and began to stretch the back of her legs.

He smiled to himself. "Can't do that, sweetie," he replied. Mac crossed the room in one stride, and reached out for her.

"I meant it!" she shouted, jumping towards the door. She didn't meet his eyes, but he could see hers. They were wild and somewhat angry. Mac raised his arms. He backed up and laughed. "Fine. Cool it. But who's girl are you?" he asked.

Cam raised an eyebrow at him. "I should have known," she whispered. "Known what?" Mac asked. Her lips moved towards the side, her mind working away. She shrugged and took a step forward, grabbing her bags. Cameron, slowly, started unpacking.

"You're Keegan's girl, right?" Mac asked.

"I don't know Keegan."

Lie. Lie. Lie. She was a liar.

"I'm Cameron," she introduced. Mac's eyes widened. Cameron Hamilton. He thought his roommate was a guy, not a girl. "But you're a girl," Mac whispered. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced away. "Cameron is a girl's name too, you know?" she asked.

Holy shit. The first girl to go to the academy was in his dorm. She was his roommate. He would be living with her. He would be doing this every day. The only girl was in his dorm, yelling at him, and looking like a sex goddess. Damn, was he lucky.

"There is a God," Mac whispered to himself, lightly.

And then he realized he would have to share this sexy girl with two other guys.

He cursed himself, "There is a Satan."

Mac's P.O.V.

"Where is everyone?" Cameron asked. Her golden eyes glanced towards the clock. "It's 5 o' clock," she added. "Orientation for the guys," I stressed out the word guys, and glanced at her. An amused look crossed her face as she glanced back. "What sports you play?" she asks, her knee keeps bouncing up and down. I notice that she always needs to be moving, no matter what she's doing.

"Football, basketball, swimming, baseball, all of those thing, but basketball and swimming are my main sports."

I glance at my jersey. "Yeah?" Cameron smiles, sweetly. Her eyes fixated on my jersey. "Well, teammate, I guess we'll be spending a lot of time together. Oh, and by the way, my number's 13."

And then she walks out, without another word.

That's right- there's no girls team, she'll have to play with the guys. I mean, right? But, how? She can't play with a bunch of guys, could she? Is she even good enough? I was number 13. I've always been number 13. And now she wanted my number. Was she good enough to get my number?

Smiling, I slipped on a shirt and jeans. I could just see her now; her long black hair, golden eyes, and those precious tears falling to the grounds as I show her how much better I am. I loved this. She didn't know what she was getting herself into. I could tell she knew what she wanted and she always got it.

And that's where I decided, no matter what, I would get Cameron Hamilton. I would make her mine.

"Bitch can get her own number."

Cameron's P.O.V.

I gathered my hair, quickly, and piled it on top of my head into a bun. Orientation or a quick run, I asked myself. Smirking, I began to let my legs go. I just kept running, not knowing why. I loved to run. I love this feeling. I love it because no one can stop me. No one can touch me. The air blows by, and I feel like I could fly. You can't describe this feeling correctly.

Closing my eyes, I keep running. I let everything pass by me; all my problems, the lies, and the hurting. This is the only time I'll be perfect. Breaking my silence, I hear shouting. Shouting, at me? I'm not sure. I just keep running.

"CAMERON!" someone screams; a pair of arms reaches out and grabs me by my waist. I catch my breath and open my eyes. I'm face to face with Mac, again. At least we're both wearing more clothing. He smirks as I stare at him. "Yes?" I ask. He grins at me, and I narrow my eyes.

"You want to play some ball?

For the first time, my eyes tear from his and look at the basketball lying besides him. I notice something other than how gorgeous his eyes are. I mean his disgusting eyes that are shades of a color indescribable. I stare out onto the court, 4 other guys are there waiting for my answer.

"Oh, so you want me to kick your ass in basketball?" I smirk.

I use the tip of my shoe to kick the basketball to my hands. I remember learning how to do that in soccer. I can hear Mac snickering behind me as I walk towards the court. "Whatever you say, Babe," he says. I drag my shorts up, and bite the side of my lip.

And then I notice him.

Anderson Hunter.

He was like me; perfect grades, deep secrets, and a great jump shot. He was one of the main reasons I wanted to go this school. My breath shortens. I don't know what to say to him. He's a legend? That I want to be just like him? That's not creepy at all.

Anderson is a year older than me, but in my grade. He was in our division, I think, and I hope he would be on our team. I couldn't wait. I wanted to learn from his guy. He was just... He was the Gordon Hayward of basketball, the Michael Phelps in swimming, the David Beckham in soccer, he was just too good.

And did I mention? He was gorgeous. He had the blue eyes and the auburn hair. His jaw was steady and set, and his muscles... Don't let me get started. That smile, it was so fake, but so beautiful. This guy was just so perfect, except for his juvenile record and his many horrifying stories. He was... a manwhore. If it wasn't the fact he was so smart and talented, he would have been thrown out for all of his... Let's just say he broke a lot of rules.

He stared at me with an ignorant gleam in his eyes. My mouth dropped to say something, but he glanced the other way, like he was better than me and everyone else here. I closed my mouth, and winced. What a bastard, I thought to myself. My eyes narrowed. He may think he's better than me, but I'll prove him wrong.

"We're playing with the girl?" he scoffs, a hint of annoyance in his voice. A large tan boy with dark hair rolls his eyes. "She's good, Anderson, real good," Mac assures him. So what if he's Anderson Hunter. I'm Cameron Hamilton.

I turn to look at the other two guys, my heart drops for a second, and I look back to Mac.

He's here.

I can feel cold sweat, drip down my back. The memories start playing before my eyes; that summer, how we danced, and the way he kissed me softly. No, Cameron... Don't go there. I want to pull myself out. I can't believe this is happening. It's him, really him. Isn't this what I wanted? I feel overwhelmed. So, I do the only sane thing. I pretend I don't know him.

The tan boy smiles at me, "I'm Derrick." I nod and toss the ball to Mac. "Cameron," I reply. Anderson rolls his eyes and sways over to the other side of the court. I turn back to Derrick and smile, behind him is Keegan.

He gawks at me, for a moment. I look down, feeling his eyes glaze over me. We both don't say anything. I've never been so cold.

I look back to Mac, not caring that we didn't introduce ourselves. We already knew each other; we knew each other very well. "That's Keegan," Mac points out as if we're dumb. He sarcastically smiles and then spins the ball on his finger.

And finally the guy with green eyes and black hair introduces himself as Carter. "Well know that we all can pretend like we know each other, let's play," Mac smiles. He glances at all of the players on the court and grimaces.

"You in, Anderson?" Carter asks.

Anderson glances at us like it's the first time he's noticed we were even there. His eyes are a mystery of blues. "Is she playing?" he groans. "Yes, just get over and get your ass on the court," Mac replies. And so Anderson does, but I can feel his glare on the back of my head, the whole time.

So kids, what did we learn today?

That's right.

Never meet your heroes.

"So, me, Cameron, and Derrick?" Mac grins. He glances at me and then Anderson. Damn, that meant I would have to guard Anderson. Mac would play as power forward against Carter, Derrick and Keegan against each other, and then me and Anderson. This was going to be a hell of a game.

"Your ball, you have her," Anderson mutters. He looks down that the floor and then back up at me. Mac throws me the ball, grinning from ear to ear. I bit the side of my lips and stare at what I have to play with. Anderson never looks me in the eyes.

I hold my breath, clear my mind, and think. I can do this.

Anderson has the size advantage, but I knew I had the speed. I pass it to Mac, realizing how many seconds I had wasted. Mac starts out with a drive, passing it out to Derrick in the corner, and quickly boxing-out. I make a cut for the basket, Anderson easily trailing. That's not going to work, I think to myself. He'll just catch up and slam the ball into my face. I watch as Derrick quickly shoots. The ball leaves his hand, and swishes into the net.

2-0

I laugh to myself and grab the ball. "Make it, take it?" I ask. "This is real ball," Mac grins back, "Its Andersons losing ass teams ball." Anderson glances at Mac and grins, "Yeah, you believe that."

Anderson passes the ball to Carter. He dribbles to the left, and then crosses over to the right lane. Mac has him fronted, and is ready for the block. Carters stuck. Hes picked up his dribble. I place one hand on Andersons side and the other in front of him, ready to block the lob pass.

"BALL!" Anderson yells. So, now the buffoon talks, I think. Carter glances at Anderson; he spins against my hips, throws his hands out, and drives for an easy lay-up. I feel ashamed. So, I cant guard him like that "Come on, girly," Mac whispers as he passes me.

2-2

Maybe my size is my advantage. I pass the ball to Mac. He holds it below his knees and stares at Carter, smiling. Im not thinking when I set a pick on Carter. Mac springs to the basket. Anderson is guarding him now. I cut to the other side, Mac fakes it to me, and I make an easy lay-up, as well.

4-2

Nearing the end of our second game, the score is 36-36. The balls in our possession and were all tied up. "First to 40?" Mac breathes out, heavily. Anderson nods and holds onto my side. Mac and I have been taking turns taking the ball out. Hes got it right now. I look up at Anderson, and he looks down at me. "Ready to loose, sweetheart?" he smirks. Im surprised at the way he acts on and off the court. He talks all the time, while playing, but says nothing, while were not. Hes smart and knows what to expect.

Never have I wanted to win something so badly. I place my hands on Andersons chest and push him away from me, hard. That would be a foul, but I cut to the basket, Mac passes it, and now its 38-36

Anderson grins at me and then takes the ball from my hands. Mac does a cheer, and I feel a little stupid, but more proud than anything.

Anderson has a look of amusement on his face as he begins to dribble, and with a sudden fore he drives to the basket. But Im right in front of him. I keep my feet moving, and then I plant myself right at the basket. If Andersons stupid and wants to kill me hell get a charge and try for a lay-up; if hes smart hell pull back and take the jump shot.

But Anderson decided to be stupid and charges right into me, sending me flying to the ground. "CHARGE!" Mac screams as the ball flies through the net. "You didnt see her push me earlier?" Anderson smirks.

Im on the ground, seeing stars

"Here," Derrick says, he holds out his hand and pulls me from the ground. My back aches and I wince as I stand up. "Our ball, 38-3," I mutter to the guys. Anderson chuckles behind me. I take a hold of the basketball and start dribbling. My head's spinning, and I can't get my eyes to focus on the basket. "You ok?" someone asks.

And then the ball is out of my hands. Anderson has stolen it, he's playing dirty! He passes it to Keegan. "GET HIM!"

Mac cries. Mac takes Anderson and I guard Keegan. He's staring at me, right in the eyes, and I want this game to be over. Keegan passes it back to Anderson, Mac and I switch players. I'm back to guarding Anderson, and I feel a bit better.

I'm here, right now. I need to win this so badly. And then I'm just there. Nothing else matters, it's just me, the ball, and Anderson, and I need to win. This is it. Mac screams, "PICK!" and breaks my concentration.

I was staring at Anderson, trying to steal the ball, not realizing the things around me. I moved left with Anderson, not ready for anything. I didn't realize Keegan was setting a pick. I didn't realize that he was going to throw his shoulder into me.

Mac's P.O.V.

Keegan pushes off of me and runs to set a pick. Cameron is obviously not paying any attention. She's going to get hit, and hurt bad. Keegan's running so fast, and then he's there. I can only imagine how badly it will hurt when she runs into him. I wince and before I can say anything, it's almost done. Anderson drives to the basket, sending Cam to collide right into Keegan's shoulder. But there's more. As she collides Keegan throws himself at her; an extra push. That would be more than a foul. He meant to do that. He meant to hurt her.

Cameron doesn't scream, nor yell. You can just hear the breath being knocked out of her. It's that moment, when a small animal is being hit by a car- it's the moment over, when you can just feel the hurt that it's in, and the fact that it doesn't deserve it. She played hard; he didn't need to hit her hard. Everyone's quiet. And then she falls onto the ground, shoulder first. "Shit," I hear Carter mutter. She gasps, loudly.

Her eyes are closed; tears are already streaming down them. If it were me, or Derrick, or even Anderson; we would do the same.

She lets out larger gasps, they're hard to listen to, and her body begins to spasm. Cameron tries to push herself up with the side of her arm; I can only imagine how badly it hurts.

She wraps her arm around her chest; her hand is kneading at her shoulder. She breathes in and out heavily, and then rolls onto her back. Everyone is frozen, unsure how to help her. Anderson stares down at her; I can't read his expression. No one talks, hoping we didn't just kill the new girl.

"Fucking shoulder," she mutters to herself.

Keegan stands there, a cold look on his face.

Cameron's P.O.V.

My shoulder, my back, my ass. I groan to myself and hold back the tears. My shoulder aches so badly; it feels like someone is stabbing me, over and over again. I roll onto my back and blink at the night sky. I want to scream, but I can't. Instead I keep a steady breath, and hope no one tries to talk to me.

I push myself off the ground and rub my shoulder a bit more. Everything still aches. I glance at Keegan; his eyes are glued to me, his face is vacant. Then he realized who he's looking at, and I swear, I have never received a colder look. I feel more tears in my eyes; not because of the pain in my shoulder, but for the pain in my chest- in my heart.

Mac's P.O.V.

Cameron, slowly, starts to get up and looks at Keegan like she's ready to kill him. But he glares at her in a hate that is so much worse. His eyes are so demeaning and angry; I've never seen him like that, before. Cameron looks away, and begins to stumble off the court.

No one talks; we're just left with awkward silence. Everyone stands there. "I think we won," I finally say. Derrick looks at me and laughs, "You dumbass!" Anderson chuckles and tosses the ball up, to make an easy three pointer. I wonder how he does it. Keegan sighs and then stomps away. "Wonder what's up his ass," Carter says.

Derrick laughs and then walks over to the bench, near Cameron. He sits down next to her, and grabs a water bottle. "HEY! Hot stuff, where you going?" I ask as Cameron starts to get her stuff together. She looks up, and then to Derrick. "I think he's talking to you."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," I laugh and tilt my head. Cameron looks back up at me. "I didn't finish my run," she answers and then adds, "So, you guys, stay, have fun, compare dick sizes."

Cameron's P.O.V.

I swig the last of the water in Mac's water bottle while walking away from the courts. Starting my run back to the dorm, I wonder what kinds of things I'll do here. It'll be great. I can do this. I'm Olympic material. And everyone who said I wasn't; will be wrong.

They'll say, "That's her. Cameron Hamilton. No one thought she could do it, and she did. No one thought she was able to accomplish anything, but look where she is now. Just look at her. She's perfect; so much better than that shameful mother she has. She has so much grace. What a beautiful girl."

They'll all wish they were nicer to me. They'll wish that they did believe. That they believed in my hopes and dreams, and that they thought I really could do it. Everyone back home will be amazed. They'll feel scornful for all the times they told me I wasn't good enough, for all the times they tore down my dreams. They'll all want to be my best friends, now. I'll be perfect. Untouchable.

And before I know it, my fantasy is interrupted.

"Why are you here?" someone asks. That voice. I know who it is before I turn around. And shivers run through my body. "Huh?" I whisper. It's one of those times, where you're caught off guard, already realized what they asked, but say huh, anyways.

I turn to face him, my heart racing at the speed of light. It's him. My fingers are trembling behind my back. I can't look him in the eyes. But I want to. I want to.

Sweat is glistening down his forehead. His hair is a mess, and the way the street light is hitting him reminds me of home. My eyes run along his arms, and I remember how good it felt to be in them. I can feel last summer, and my weakness. I stand up straight, and run my hand over my arm. I need to stop this.

"For school, swim, sports, my future you know that," I whisper. Keegan's eyes narrow into a deeper glare. I can't describe how much I want him. He steps forward, out of the light, and tucks his hands into fists. My heart is racing. "I meant here!" he shouts. His voice is so loud, angry. Hes never like that. Hes sensitive and soft. Have I made him into this? I want the gentle Keegan, the one who kisses my forehead, lightly, before I fall asleep.

Keegan keeps his glare at me and I cant seem to focus. He's so close; just inches away. The he hisses, "What are you doing to me!"

My eyes widen as I stand still in place. The words stumble from my mouth; none of them making a bit of sense. It all builds up, and I'm crying, and he just stares. "For fucks sake, Cameron! You knew! You know everything about me!" he yells. "NO!" I scream. "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU HATE ME SO MUCH!" I glare at him, and then turn around.

Lies. Again. I knew exactly why.

And I run from him, again. I start crying because I'm always running from the truth. I'm always running from everything I've ever needed to face. I wonder when I can just stay and handle it all. I wonder when I will be strong enough to look head on with my problems. I say it and it sounds so easy, but I cant go back. I cant deal with it all. Then the tears stop because I remember I have dreams I will achieve. And then I think; I needed a nightly jog anyways.

MacAllister's P.O.V.

I dropped my keys onto the floor and sighed. What the fuck was up with Keegan? And who's in the damn shower? I need to use the shower. I glanced over to see Cameron's stuff on her bed. She's in the shower. Damn.

WAIT. SHE's in the SHOWER. Main idea: a girl is naked in the shower. Causes: she's a girl and is probably a germ phobic. Effects: I will be 'accidentally' barging in on her, and she'll realize she's wanted me all this time because I'm hot and I have great charm. Plus, I'm hot.

I stand there staring at the bathroom door; my mouth is basically watering and drying at the same time. Now, shirt or no shirt? No shirt. It'll make everything a lot easier. I bet she's hella kinky. I rip open the door, and then let out the highest pitched scream of my fucking life.

Cameron's P.O.V.

OH GOD! This is funnier than that time- Wait it's funnier than anything I have ever seen. I walk into the room, and hear a girl's scream higher than any other girl I have ever met. Looking to the right, guess who it is? CONGRATS! If you answered, MacAllister, you are correct! If you answered Fran from the Nanny, shit you're out of luck.

You see, as I walked closer I realized what happened. Mac was shirtless because he thought I was in the shower. And well Derrick was just trying to go on with his nightly shower, and then BAM! MacAllister walks in without a shirt like he's from a goddamned gay porno.

Derrick screams, he makes that face of complete embarrassment and he knows how fucking stupid Mac is. I can't help but laugh louder as Derrick covers himself with a towel. "ON NO! DON'T LET ME END YOUR LOVE MAKING!" I cry. I'm laughing so hard tears roll down my face. I set down my stuff and roll my eyes at Mac. I can't believe him. "Even though you bend the other way, you still can't touch me."

He grunts something disturbing and then lies down onto his bed. Folding his hands over his, he leans his head back farther. "I'm going to sleep," he moans. "Your boyfriend's room is over there, you know?" I ask. "Shut up." I smile, content with myself. Standing up, "I got bathroom after Derrick." "ALL YOUR'S! I'M GOING TO CALL MY GIRLFRIEND AND DE-FAG MYSELF!" Derrick yells back.

Making sure that Mac wasn't peeking, I slipped off my clothes and grabbed a towel. I turned on the shower and looked into the mirror, waiting for the water to grow warmer.

The girl on the other side stared at me. She had black hair, like mine. The same boring brown eyes, same skin color, as I remembered myself. But, there was something wrong. I looked different. The side of my mouth twitched; I was unsure on what I was looking at. Who are you?

What have you become? My lips stayed at a perfect line. Why do I look like I'm about to die? I wondered. Trying something new, I smiled at my own reflection. Fake, just fake. I shook my head and turned away.

Slowly, I stepped into the shower. The water was so warm and soothing against my skin. My shoulder was sore and was already starting to bruise. I let my fingers press against my back, finding a dozen small bruises. It was just a battle scar I reminded myself.

They were all just battle scars.

Mac's P.O.V.

Her body was tan everywhere, no tan lines. Her back was covered in bruises, all of them were black and blue. She had perfect curves, perfect legs, perfect everything.

I listen to the water running on the other side of the wall; I wonder if it's wrong that I just pretended to be asleep and watched Cameron change. I shake the thought; I was bound to see her naked some time. I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep, but I just kept seeing her over and over again.

She has a tattoo on her lower back...

Cameron's P.O.V

The whistle is louder than what I expected, but the clean feeling of it runs through my ears- oh, I've missed this. The room is completely white, besides the red bleachers. It's giant, an open space of nothing, while the pool sinks below the floor. I want to scream I can't believe I'm here. A smile spreads across my face as I look down at the pool, I can see my own reflection. I see a mixture of things- I see the bad, the worst, and the rest. I see what I want to and ignore the rest. I wonder how long I can do that. The pool is so pristine, it's still with itself, and I think I've never seen anything so perfect. I don't dare jump in, or even dip my feet in.

I rock back and forth on my heels as I wait for practice to start. I wonder what we're going to do- I'm scared. I'm scared for how everyone will react to me, especially when they realize I can really swim. I can do this. And my want to do this, over weighs anything.

16 guys and 1 girl in a giant pool, what could go wrong?

Then my eyes land on coach, Richard Ryan. He was a swimmer, too. A really great athlete, he was going to go all the way to the Olympics. He was something big- wonderful, great. And then something happened. He choked. He couldn't do it, and he lost his chance- at everything. His future was gone.

But he's a looker. Coach is still young, in his late twenties? He's got those baby blue eyes that match the ocean and messy brown hair. And then I see the complete idiot asshole next to him. Anderson.

Anderson's lips are jerking so fast I can't make out what he's saying. I can tell that he's angry because- well, when is he not angry? Anderson looks up. He glances to me, and then points. Ahh, I see. Of course, it's about me. Very nice. Coach nods, they both stare at me, and for some reason I freeze.

My palms start to sweat. I look away, quickly, wondering if they're still staring at me. I glance back, meeting Anderson's cold eyes.

Suddenly, there's a small pain in my shoulder. Someone snaps the back of my suit. I wince, and my eyes close. I remember putting my suit on this morning. It doesn't even cover half of the bruises I have from my fall.

I turn around, abruptly, and meet Mac's eyes. "Ready to work?" Mac teases. He crosses his arms, and I can't help but notice his muscles. "Yeah, I heard your coach rides his players hard," I state as I take another peek at Anderson and coach.

His warm breath feels so good against my cool neck that I don't complain for the first minute. Even though I'm avoiding looking at him I know he's smirking. His voice is low and when he talks it's like he's breathing out the words. "I'd like you to ride my hard."

Scoffing, I pull myself together and look at him, the inside of my palms begin to sweat and my toes curl towards the floor. My smirk subsides as I stare into his deep, brown eyes. He has a perfect face. His eyes are this brown color that I doubt exists. I can't even describe them. It's like my lips are there, and I can see what color they are, I just can't place them as a single color. "Shut up," I say, nodding my head. I turn away from him and act as though I can't feel his magnificent eyes on my back.

Mac laughs and I feel another snap, this time at the back of my bathing suit. "Hey! Stop that!" I yell. I spin on my heels and glare at him. "Sorry," he replies, "It just interests me that you're naked under this." I glare at Mac; he's smirking again. Before I can say anything, he grabs the front of my suit and snaps that, as well.

My mouth drops and I don't realize I'm even raising my hand when I slap him a good one across the cheek. Mac starts laughing as he rubs the side of his face. The harsh noise echoes everywhere, everyone's eyes are drawn to us. It was an impulse and now my cheeks are red.

"What the fuck did you just do!" I hiss at Mac. He just keeps laughing. Mac. Mac's the kind of guy you want. He's kind and sweet and he'll be there. The more I talk to Mac, the more I like him. I hate that. I need to get away from him.

"I just got a peek at the twins," he laughs, still rubbing the side of his face.

I look to the left. Keegan stares at us in wonder. His eyes are wide, like he's just seen a ghost, and his body is frozen. What's he afraid of? I stare at him, and then he realized who he's looking at, once again, and starts to glare. Keegan snarls something to himself and faces his back towards me. I want to fall back into the water.

"What's going on here?" Coach asks. He stares down both Mac and I, and then looks to Anderson. They share a knowing glance, and I feel my cheeks redden. Thinking quickly I make up a dumb excuse. "Just playing around," I mutter. Mac starts to laugh; he throws his arms around me and smiles at Coach. "Yeah, we're just two peas in a pod." I glare at Mac. "Don't touch me!" I hiss and shrug his arms off, still glaring. "That's a lie. She can't keep her hands off of me, coach," Mac smirks.

Coach just watches us for a moment. He sighs and then glances to Anderson. "She's already causing trouble," Anderson mumbles, making sure I can hear. I glance down at my toes; the cool tile is smooth beneath them. "Sorry," I whisper. "Well, coach we have to keep her seeing as though she's the best looking player on the tem, besides myself. I mean, look at these fools. They got nothing on her. I really can't take another ass to ass tap with Anderson in the locker room," Mac smiles, cheekily. Coach laughs, sarcastically. And Anderson tilts his head, amused with Mac.

I have that feeling. I always have that feeling before mom moved me to a new state, a new apartment, a new man who visited her at night. It's when I want everything to end. Everything's so uncomfortable and I really feel how unwelcomed I am.

If it weren't for my urge to win, I would be running home. I hate... being strong and having to have morals. I want to curl up into my mother's arm and have her tell me she loves me. But that would feel wrong too. So I stand next to Mac and keep my tears behind my eyes.

I look at Anderson, he's sneering at me. Anderson has brown hair that falls down on his head and he has these eyes that just make you want him so badly. His eyes match the pool and I wish mine did too.

I keep getting lost in him. Anderson. He's beautiful and I've admired him ever since the first time I've met him. God, I hate him sometimes. But there's something about him that makes you unable to hate him. You know he's perfect- he's never done badly on test, he's never lost, he's never come in last, and though he does the shittiest things on earth, no one cares- everyone still sees the great kid everyone wants him to be.

While people like me, have to work for shit.

Coach turns to the rest of the team. "All right, guys... and girl!" coach yells. He stares above our heads as he talks. Is that odd? "Everybody, you know the rules. Swim practice isn't over until someone pukes in the gutter," as he says this his eyes land on me, like he things I'll be the first one to puke. Well, I won't. I won't, I promise myself. The whistle blows again. Coach stares at me, and then winks. All the guys jump into the pool. I looked around, dazed for a moment.

A figure walks past me, the hair on my back standing up. "Hold it in, sweetheart," someone mutters to me. Anderson's hovering over me with a smirk. His hand cups my side, and he guides me to Lane 1. I can't breathe, nor move. I feel so comfortable, but uncomfortable. And I don't want his touch to leave me. My body tingles, and I feel warm all over. Anderson winks, and then dives into his own lane.

It's always a game with him, isn't it?

So, at the dinner, they give out awards, and well, Blake and I won Most Likely To Succeed. So, we're walking up there, behind this wall or whatever and, no one's watching, so- Blake puts his arm around me, kissed the side of my face, and I really can't help but get butterflies. Oh wow, I'm going to miss him.

And at the dance, I was sitting with Chris, talking- when all of sudden the DJ ends the song and gets on the mike and says, "Here's Here Comes The Sun by the Beatles, dedicated to Christine from Blake," And all I can think is, he remembered. He remembered what my favorite song was. And I can't help but smile.

Blake walks over, says something to Chris that I can't hear, and before I know it, he's leading me to the dance floor, and we just slow dance to the song. I really, I'm really going to miss him and I almost cried because I don't know why.

At the end of the night, I went over to Blake and tapped his shoulder to turn around, but before I could even say anything he grabbed me by the waist, picked me up, and hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe- than he even spun me around and I told him I would miss him and I even said

I love you, and he even said it back.

That was all I needed- to know that at some point, he had

loved me too.

Cameron's P.O.V.

I just dive right in, letting everything else go, and the water catches me. The water will always catch me. I trust it more than anything. It's all around me, surrounding me, and I can't help but feel so free. I push myself forward, and for once I feel so good. Everything is so good; the cool sensation on my skin, the color, and the feel are my favorite parts. The way water just captures you. It's so comforting. I could do this forever. And it would let me.

I used to swim when my Mom went missing or when she yelled at me to grow up. I used to swim when she came back home drunk. I used to swim when I realized I would most likely never meet my Dad. I used to swim when the kids laughed at me, and the parents stared at me like a lost cause. I used to swim because underneath the water was the only place I could breathe.

Beneath the surface, I held onto broken memories and secrets. I realized my Mom didn't even know who my Dad was. I realized a lot of things. The water was where no one could see your tears, and you could float and float, and no one would care.

Then, Keegan came into my life, and everything turned out different. I was a real teenage girl. I laughed and I danced and I wore sundresses. For once I was like everyone else. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to feel safe in his arms. I had a place I called home, and everything was just going well.

There was a time, where I could breathe on dry land.

But then something happened and I couldn't anymore.

I couldn't do anything anymore.

Cameron's P.O.V.

Then, Keegan came into my life, and everything turned out different. I was a real teenage girl. I laughed and I danced and I wore sundresses. For once I was like everyone else. I wanted to be loved and I wanted to feel safe in his arms. I had a place I called home, and everything was just going well. There was a time, where I could breathe on dry land. But then something happened and I couldn't anymore. I couldn't do anything anymore.

Mac's P.O.V.

It's been maybe two weeks that I have known Cameron. That I have talked to her, teased her, lived with her. And over that time, I've learned a lot about her. I've learned what she likes and what she hates. What kind of things that would bother and things she would just adore. Her personality and traits that I don't think any other person would ever notice. She has some sort of ritual, I guess? I'm not sure how I can describe it. I'm not sure how I can describe her.

Before she goes to sleep, she goes for a run. When she comes back, she showers for the longest time. And then she does push-ups, like real push-ups. She does this whole work out type thing. I mean, she's just in it to win it. She doesn't ever give up, I notice. And she stretches all the time, too. It's like... everything she does is some kind of obstacle. I don't know why she can't let herself relax for a moment. I've never seen more dedication in my whole damned life. And then she wakes up, gets ready, and leaves for class. She never falters. She doesn't wait for me; she doesn't even say good morning. She just goes on without noticing the world around her. After that, she goes back to the dorm. She studies, finishes her homework, and works out more.

This girl never takes a break. She doesn't stop for one second. I don't think she's ever just enjoyed life. I bet she's never even had a sick day. What if one of her family members died? Would she even do pull ups at the funeral? Does she have a single friend or anyone to stop her? She's going to over work herself. She's going to run to death or something.

She'll push herself off her own cliff of overachievement.

But she's beautiful- and when I get her to laugh, there's this sparkle in her eye and I know that she hasn't always been like that. I know she was a teenage girl with feelings, at one point, and I wish I could bring her back to there. I wish we could be there, laugh, and I wish I knew her- just the real her. Because when she rarely let's her wall down, she's beautiful and funny and smart- and her eyes twinkle like the stars when she laughs. When she wears her hair down and she doesn't cover her face when she laughs.

I wish I knew that her.

I push myself further down the lane, and just keep my stroke steady. It's been what? 4 hours now? This is easy. And, though she's a work out maniac, I can't believe she hasn't hurled yet. She proved us wrong. I wonder how long this is going to go on. I doubt she'll hit the 6 hour mark, though. Anderson puts his money at 5 hours. It's sad they're betting on her, but truth is, she'll never be better than any of us. Maybe some of the weakest guys, but that's it. She's a girl. She's different. It just- it's not going to work out the way she wants, no matter how hard she tries.

Lots of things don't work out the way you want them to.

Like the day you realize you won't ever be good enough.

Anderson's P.O.V.

Only a few more seconds, I remind myself. There's a dramatic movement next to me, a break in the water and I scowl because that's not how the water is meant to be- it's supposed to be clear, forming around your body, soothing you to go faster, win harder. But I smile to myself because I was right. She made it barely past 5 hours. Hoisting myself up, I get out of the swimming pool. Coach is pleased, but acting like a hard ass. I can tell by the way he's looking at her. He probably feels like he's stumbled upon something miraculous. I look over to her. She's done now. Her eyes are watering over. She really thought she could hang with the guys, didn't she?

Truth is, if she held on for another hour, Dobbs would have been the first to puke. He always is. I glance at Dobbs. He isn't wearing his usual sad eyes face. He's always afraid of practice because he's not cut out for the water. Hell, he's not cut out for anything. But the kid is damn smart; I have to give him that.

"Are you wet for me again?" I can hear Mac tease her. He's really got a thing for her, huh? Cameron wipes the side of her mouth, with a sour gaze in her eyes she turns to me. She winces, our eyes meeting, her eyes drop and she knows- she's lost.

I laugh as she grabs a towel and wipes her tears. She's a loser. She's a stupid crying loser. The girl's sad. Boo fucking hoo. I can see that her eyes are now red. I bet she promised herself she wouldn't be the first to hurl. Her eyes meet mine and I can see that she knows she has lost. What did she expect? To be as good as the guys? Hah. Funny.

"COME ON, COACH! Just cause the girl can't hold it in doesn't mean we should cut practice short!" I yell. Coach shrugs and looks over to Cameron. He looks back at me and then says, "Gotta treat her like a team member."

"Well, fuck. She's going to slow us down." I grimace. It all feels so scripted to me. I've been casted to play the asshole a million times and maybe I've become one, but this is what my life has done to me and I wonder what drove me so hard to do this- because I could win? Because I was good at it? I'm good at everything- I can't deny how stupid I sound, but I am. I always win. But I'm never the happy one.

Coach sighs and then sways over to everyone else. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that... Practice is over, this time. But that was too easy, next time we go longer, even if the girl pukes," he tells everyone. He's going to make her cry. Again. Sighing, coach walks away.

I watch as Mac shakes his head and hands Cameron a towel. He's babying her- more than that, he likes her. I stare for maybe too long as he pats her back and then makes her laugh.

What a sad excuse for a human being.

I shake my head and grab my towel. Shaking the water out of my hair, I realize I better go for a run after this. Is it really worth it? Is any of this shit worth it? I'm better than all of this. Fuck.

I turn back around. The guys just stand there, wondering what to do next. All of them are exhausted. It's the first swim practice, I bet no one even prepared for it.

"Fuck you, Anderson. I'll go another 10 hours if I have to," someone spits. I glance down at the small thing in front of me.

She already has her little signature glare on.


End file.
